One Point Lead
by PatientNumber10
Summary: "What if the best that I can be just isn't good enough? Isn't it better not to know?"


**One Point Lead**

_All alone by the table of food in my wrinkled suit and my borrowed tie  
Only thinking of something to say in the moment after the girl walks by  
Everyone else is having fun or else pretending to  
I eat another crudité_

Everyone was busy tending to their own circle of friends. Even the geeky ones had their own private meeting about this sci-fi movie that Pete liked but refused to give his opinion for fear of catching nerdy contagions. He didn't need to socialize right now though. He was hungry, and food occupying his mouth instead of words seemed like a better idea. Besides, he didn't like pretending to be interested when his attention is really on something else. Well, someone else.

Pete saw her in a far corner of the room talking to Dickenson. Her stiff and polished gestures irritated Pete a bit but he often chalked it up to potential topics to tease her about.

She excused herself for their boss, coming towards Pete, who opened his mouth to say something but realized he had nothing to say. He closed his yapper, turned, formulated a witty greeting, but when he finished, she had already whizzed by.

More robotic gestures, more careful picked and guarded words to equally stiff people. Pete swiped a carrot from the buffet table and dejectedly chewed on it.

_At the office we're all having cake cause it's someone's birthday, I don't know who  
Got my plate and I'm scanning the room and the only seat is right next to you  
I get the nod, the tiny smile that doesn't come with teeth  
Maybe you don't know who I am_

It never really mattered who had birthdays but Pete really appreciated how they threw parties with food and cake. Pete always knew whose birthday it was since he was the party guy, but he mostly found out via the birthday cake. The cake now though was already half-eaten and he couldn't make out the name of the celebrant.

He shrugged. He'll find out later.

Pete filled his plate and saw a vacant seat to a now silent and alone Myka Bering. Swallowing, he made his way to the only empty seat—well, as far as he was concerned, it was the only vacant one—before someone else took it.

Myka looked up. Her eyes were on him but they were not really looking. She inclined her head politely and smiled briefly.

He sat awkwardly, trying to push the lack of recognition in her eyes from his mind.

_Staying inside, lying in bed  
Noticing something that's not there  
Follow my heart, follow my head  
I'll follow anything that might get me somewhere_

The party had ended rather late, and while Pete enjoyed them, this one left him beat. He fell heavily on his bed He rubbed his eyes as if it could erase Myka's smile from his mind, however brief and practiced it was.

She might not really recognize him now but they already had met, formally, some time ago when she was still a rookie. They shook hands and Pete immediately felt a vibe. A good and bad vibe. He never figured out why that was, even now. Logic and all other bodily processes seem to escape him whenever Myka was involved.

_Catch her eye when she's pouring my coffee and search my head for an opening line  
But I see by the look on her face if I keep my mouth shut I'll save some time_

The next morning, Pete saw Myka making coffee and without his consent his feet started to move towards her. He reached for a Styrofoam cup and shoved it in her direction with a goofy grin.

She looked up, smiled tightly, and poured him some coffee.

He was surprised by how she looked apologetic as she sipped her own hot drink before she flipped through her files, eyes focused and lips pressed in a thin line. It was like she thrust herself into another world from everyone else and demanded not to be disturbed.

Pete didn't say anything, leaning on the counter quietly, limiting his movements so he wouldn't jar her concentration. These moments were the closest thing he had to a conversation with her.

_What if the best that I can be just isn't good enough?  
Isn't it better not to know?_

Pete knew that she was brilliant. A few years of field work and sharing ideas that Pete wouldn't have really responded nice to, and she was already high up the ladder. Pete had counted more years before he reached what she already has now. Sometimes, he thought that this was why she had never noticed him. She was a genius and he was mediocre. Well, mediocre in an awesome kind of way, but still. Sometimes, Pete just wanted to let go and ignore their differences, and pretend they were even.

So he opened his mouth but in the exact same moment, Myka closed her folder and strode away with purpose. Pete downed his coffee in one gulp then remembered it was searing hot and he sputtered, spraying the brown liquid everywhere and staining everything within range.

He looked up, and, not surprisingly, everyone was looking at him, but it was Myka's mixed stare of disgust, pity, and amusement that had embarrassed him most.

Even?

Yeah, maybe not.

_I quit, I'm done  
Cause I don't think it's gonna turn out OK  
It's no fair, it's no fun  
If every time it's gonna end the same way:  
Me zero  
Big bad world one_

* * *

**A/N:** Who's birthday was that? It was Myka's, lol. This is an old fic I had apparently stored in a forgotten part of my flashdrive. After some quick edits, lo and behold. But there are probably still some mistake there. I don't have a beta, so you can point out the tiniest mistakes and I can fix it. I'm somewhat guilty that I'm posting a Pyka fic when I'm really a Bering and Wells shipper. Well, this is really one-sided. This my headcanon though-Pete being in love with Myka in the past but then he just settled for being bros with her after realizing it's better that way. Please don't throw rocks at me.

And no, I am not violating any rules with including those lyrics. It's a Jonathan Coulton song which is under Creative Commons so you know... I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to do this.


End file.
